A Christmas Knight

The ship limped into the harbor, sails torn and sides marked with scorching. The children on board huddled below decks still frightened by the encounters of the previous days. It was Christmas Eve, but the law was not to be flouted. Everyone would be housed in the isolation hospital until the threat of disease could be ruled out. The crew helped the children into the rowboat that would take them to the hospital. Some of the children sniffled, some cried and others tried to be brave. The older ones held the younger in an effort that was as much to comfort themselves as it was to comfort the smaller children. These were the only survivors of a pirate raid on a coastal town. There was no joy, no sense of anticipation; only fear was etched on each face as they were handed down from ship to boat. The children faced the unknown as the sailor rowed the boat through the dark waters to the shore. A frowning, dour nurse greeted the children as if they were prisoners rather than orphans seeking shelter and asylum. The Order of St. John had adapted care as a pillar; however, it was clear from the nurse’s face that these children would be little more than a burden on her team and their new home country. The children were led through the barracks to a room that would have to do for all of them. There was no food, but a bucket of water had been provided to ease their thirsts. At least, they were together. One by one, the children fell asleep even the bravest shed a tear before slumber overtook her. Light streamed in through the window high above as the sun rose over the Mediterranean. A rustle signaled a subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. The smell of mint, hay and pipe tobacco snuck into the room. One child awoke to see a man in a chair motioning for quiet. He was large and dressed in red and white with an eight-point star on his chest. He had a long white beard and sparkling blue eyes; an empty scabbard hung at his belt. He motioned for the child to come over and sit on his lap. Then he reached into a sack and, pulling out a horse figurine, gave it to the child. The man then pointed to a nurse who led the child to a banquet room down the hall where Christmas Breakfast was prepared in all its glory. Each child awoke quietly, sometimes in twos and threes, and all received a smile, a gift and a sense of welcome from this grandfatherly figure. By the time Christmas Breakfast was over, each child was feeling better about being in a strange place. Even if their circumstances were still not drastically improved, they were give the greatest gift of all – hope. And on Christmas Day, that is a gift that many will find useful.